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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27864881">Carry On Countdown 2020</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/avenging_cap/pseuds/effing-numpties'>effing-numpties (avenging_cap)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow &amp; Related Fandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Carry On Countdown 2020 (Simon Snow), Falling In Love, Fluff, Gag Gifts, Hot Chocolate, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Meme, Post-breakup, Saying I Love You, White Elephant party, blanket fort making, but still snuggles, chosen family, i get really emotional about them being a family, like secret santa but if you picked a present from a pile everyone brought, looking at christmas lights, shepard has many fun holiday ideas, shoveling snow, sibling hijinx, simon being awkward as usual, simon dancing like an idiot, simon is bored, sleepy mornings, snowstorm, talking about simon's wings, writing letters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:01:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,364</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27864881</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/avenging_cap/pseuds/effing-numpties</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Welcome to my collection of one shots for the 2020 Carry On Countdown! I'll be sporadically making some fics and also some playlists and moodboards on my tumblr! I hope you enjoy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Penelope Bunce/Shepard, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Carry On Countdown 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. ...is it cool that i said all that?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Day 11: Fluff<br/>A sleepy morning with the boys.</p><p>Title: "Delicate" by Taylor Swift</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I wake up to sunlight streaming on my face. I smile into it, thankful for the warmth. The rays are settling on Simon’s hair, tinting it an even brighter shade of gold. His eyes are still gently shut, and his face is so close to mine that I can make out each and every one of his eyelashes.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley, I love mornings with him.</p><p> </p><p>We haven’t gotten to do this very much, considering the nature of our lives. I regret every night I’ve slept alone, because this is like nothing else. </p><p> </p><p>I poke a finger through one of his curls and resist the urge to kiss his forehead. Far be it for me to come between Simon and his sleep.</p><p> </p><p>He’s currently curled up against me, his head resting on my chest. It’s like sleeping with a weighted blanket. Well, a blanket with wings. When he sleeps, Simon curls his wings up behind him. If I’m lucky, his tail will curl around my leg while he’s asleep. It’s the most precious thing in the world.</p><p> </p><p>I couldn’t imagine telling him that, though. Last night I nearly did, but things are still delicate between us. Still, when he looked up from his pasta with his wide eyes and his crooked smile, I nearly melted. </p><p> </p><p>The few times Simon has come over, I’ve cooked dinner for us. I’m not the best cook, but I’ve picked up a few recipes over the years. Simon, bless his heart, has the appetite of a football team and all the culinary skill of a numpty, so I’ve taken on the role of the chef. Secretly, I enjoy it. I love the look on his face when he enjoys something I’ve made, and I love being a stupid romantic and setting up the dining room.</p><p> </p><p>Last night I went all out with a red tablecloth and far too many candles. I even got out some twinkle lights and wove them around the dishes and candles. Simon had showed up in trackies and a hoodie, thoroughly embarrassed. His face flushed a brilliant shade of red, and he buried his face in my chest. I couldn’t care less what he wears. It just matters that he’s here, and that he wants me close to him.</p><p> </p><p>I made Spaghetti Aglio e Olio, which sounds complicated but (thankfully) is not. It still impressed Simon; he shoved a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth and looked up at me like I hung the moon.</p><p> </p><p>“This is delicious!” He’d exclaimed, his mouth still full.</p><p> </p><p>I can’t explain why that was the moment. The moment I wanted to say <em> I love you </em> . It was just a quintessential Simon moment. Food in his mouth, his brightness lighting up my dining room. I remember looking at him and thinking, <em> Ah, yes. The sun. </em></p><p> </p><p>Ever since the first moment I saw him, I’ve loved Simon. I never thought I would actually get to act on that, let alone say those words aloud. You’d think years and years of pining would have set me up better for this, but it hasn’t. My world is still completely set off balance by him each and every time he does something stupid or smiles or laughs.</p><p> </p><p>A wave of warmth washes over me now. There’s nothing more I want in this world apart from more mornings like this. Quiet, cosy morning with Simon’s tousled hair in my face. It makes me feel almost normal, if you ignore the wings. In the bright sun of the morning, it’s almost as if we haven’t been through what we have. For a moment, it’s just Simon and I, and the world is peaceful. </p><p> </p><p>I can handle everything else when it comes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to soak this up while I can.</p><p> </p><p>After a moment, Simon stirs, and I feel myself break out into a grin.</p><p> </p><p>“Good morning, Darling,” I whisper.</p><p> </p><p>Simon lifts his chin and scrunches up his face a few times before his tired eyes settle on mine.</p><p> </p><p>“Morning.” He lays his head back down and closes his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>I run my fingers through his mop of sleep muddled curls, and he sighs, nestling his head into my chest.</p><p> </p><p>“How’d you sleep?” I press a kiss to his forehead, hoping that will wake him up. He stays put, though, as content as a cat basking in the sun. </p><p> </p><p>“Good.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>W</em><em>ell ,</em>” I correct. </p><p> </p><p>That gets him up, just like I thought it would. </p><p> </p><p>He swats at my face. “Shut up,” he says, leaning in for a kiss. </p><p> </p><p>I sit up a bit, and Simon pulls himself into my lap, which means it’s my favorite part of the morning. He yawns, stretching his arm to the sky, and his wings follow. They unfurl behind him and spread themselves out in all their glory. His wings glimmer in the sunlight. </p><p> </p><p>Looking at him like this, my heart nearly melts. It’s a reminder of how magnificent he is, and how lucky I am to have him. I reach out and pull my arms around him. </p><p> </p><p>“I love you,” Simon breathes into my hair.</p><p> </p><p>I pull back to look at him.  “Simon, I-”</p><p> </p><p>His face falls. “It’s okay, I know it’s hard for you.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, no, love it’s not that at all.” I cup his cheek in my hand and slowly guide his chin up so his eyes meet mine. I take a deep breath. I’ve been thinking of this speech for years, but I’m still nervous to get it out. “Simon, I’m hopelessly in love with you.”</p><p> </p><p>His eyes brighten up, and he presses his face into my hand.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve loved you since I first saw you, I think. You light me up. I don’t ever want it to stop.” My heart is so full that it’s almost disgusting. We’re disgusting. I love us.</p><p> </p><p>For a moment I think I’ve gone too far. I don’t ever want this to end, but I don’t know if Simon is there yet. Crowley, I don’t even know if Simon was fully awake when he made his proclamation to me.</p><p> </p><p>Simon purses his lips. “I don’t want it to, either.” He runs a hand through his hair, slightly embarrassed. He flops down onto the bed next to me and opens his arms. “C’mere.” </p><p> </p><p>I oblige. I curl myself into him and watch his wings fold back into themselves, a sign that Simon is not getting up anytime soon. Simon wraps his arms around me and I sigh, leaning into his warmth. My boyfriend is basically a heater. A really fucking beautiful heater.</p><p> </p><p>I feel my stomach grumble. I’ve been up for longer than he has, and I need blood and breakfast. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m hungry,” I grumble into his chest.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not moving!” He protests, pulling me closer.</p><p> </p><p>I guess I could be persuaded to stay here just a little while longer. “I love you,” I whisper.</p><p> </p><p>“I love you too.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Just Wanna Tell You How I'm Feeling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Simon’s left alone when Penny and Baz are out of town. He’s so bored that he writes Baz a letter.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Day 16: Meme</p>
<p>I'm not using a beta for my COC stuff because I'm mainly doing this for fun, so I apologize for any errors!</p>
<p>Just bear with me on this one, okay?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dear Baz,</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Never in my life did I think I would be writing you a </span>
  <em>
    <span>letter</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It’s pretty surprising of me, isn’t it? This is what happens when you leave me alone for too long. You went home to visit your family and spared me from the craziness (by the way - what if I wanted craziness?), and Penny is at some academic conference somewhere. Now I’m sitting in the apartment all alone losing my marbles. Which brings me to this letter. Prepare for my stream of consciousness! </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gonna walk to Hampshire to see you at this point! Did neither of you consider that, without anyone here to spell my wings off, I can’t go outside? It’s not bloody Halloween, so I can’t exactly go to a fancy dress party. I’ve been ordering takeaway and leaving money on the doormat to avoid people. That’s how bad it’s getting!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Give me one good reason not to fly myself to Hampshire right now. I’m sure that Fiona would back me up on this. I think she secretly loves me, in her heart of hearts.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You say your father is a different story, though. I guess I understand that. I don’t know why I’m blubbering on about this. I just really miss you and wish we could be together. I’ve almost finished every season of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bake Off</span>
  </em>
  <span> on Netflix, and I’m not sure what I’ll do after that.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Up at your place, things must be crazy. I’m sure you haven’t watched your way through Netflix already. I miss Mordelia. I feel like she understands me, you know? She gets just as tired of you as I do, and she loves making fun of you. I hope you rolled your eyes when you read that. Who am I kidding? I know you did.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Never thought that I would enjoy your family, since they hated me for so long. Chosen One and all that. I guess now that I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> chosen one they’re forced to like me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gonna need to eat something salty after all that sweetness. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ha, ha</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I’m really funny, did you know that? I’ve started doing stand up comedy in front of the mirror to keep busy. I’m not sure how well the jokes about you being a vampire would land, but I think they’re hilarious.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Let me share one with you. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Anybody else out there got a vampire boyfriend?</span>
  </em>
  <span> A few people would cheer, because vampires are objectively gorgeous. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hell yeah. Mine is great, never tries to bite me</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I’m sure I’d get a knowing chuckle for that one. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You know what he does, though? He’s always making fun of me. What a pain in the neck!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You get it? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pain in the neck</span>
  </em>
  <span>?? Like biting! I swear, Baz, I’m onto something here. Do not roll your eyes at me like I know you are! You love me, you love me!! Maybe you should leave me alone more often, as this is clearly the time to let my genius shine.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Down in Hampshire, they would love my jokes, and you know it. Ignore everything I’ve written so far and just leave me so that I can go on the road and make people laugh.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Never actually do that, please. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gonna find a way to make you stay here and never leave again, actually. That last bit was just more of my comedic genius (and some of my anger, you know I’ve got a lot of that). </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Run to the mailbox every day until this letter comes, will you? I guess you actually won’t know this letter is coming. Maybe I’ll text you. I haven’t done much planning, but I’m sure you could have guessed that. If I had planned ahead, I probably wouldn’t be in this wacky situation. Maybe I could have meal prepped! </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Around the time you get this, it’ll only be two days until you come home. I still think those two days are too long. What if I finish everything on Netflix that’s worth watching by then? What am I to do then?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And what would you do, if you came home and saw me curled up in a ball in the corner, having run out of things to do?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Desert your family! Come home to me. I will order curry, and I will hug you for 24 hours straight. I promise. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You make me really happy, Baz. Writing this letter reminded me about that. I’m happy that after so many years of pretending to hate me you’ve shown your true colors.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Love,</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Simon</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>P.S. Read the first word of each paragraph. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>That was a lot harder than I expected it to be!! It sounds really disjointed between paragraphs, but I hope you understand why now that you've finished it.</p>
<p>I hope that I rickrolled you successfully :)</p>
<p>Find me on <a href="https://effing-numpties.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Welcome to Fluffytown</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Simon and Baz are spending the holidays at Pitch Manor. Simon just wanted to take a nap, but Mordelia has other plans...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Day 12: Blanket Fort</p>
<p>This was heavily inspired by the blanket fort episode of the tv show Community. If you want to see their epic blanket fort in all its glory, watch <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dFhCmknCpIY">this clip</a>.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I take a deep breath, appreciating the fresh forest air. I love going on runs when I’m at home for the holidays. The scenery is gorgeous, and it reminds me of playing football, which I dearly miss. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As I approach the manor, I can’t help but smile when I remember who’s inside. My family is, sure. It’s been great to see them, even though Mordelia can be a pain in my arse, and Fiona makes suggestive faces whenever Simon and I walk into a room. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Simon</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It’s him I’m more excited about. He said he was taking a nap when I left for my run. I think he ate too much at lunch and needed to sleep it off. Typical. Disgustingly, my heart swells just thinking about him. This is our first real Christmas here together, and it’s been wonderful. Simon fits in with my family surprisingly well, and I love watching him play with my siblings.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Taking a huge swig of my water bottle, I let myself in the house. It’s strangely quiet, so the kids might be down for naps. “The kids” includes my boyfriend, apparently. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I walk up the steps to my room, panting. My hair is slick with sweat and has somehow fallen in my face in spite of my headband. I recognize that I probably reek, but I want to kiss Simon before I shower.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Smiling, I open the door to my room, prepared to creep over to the bed and softly wake him up. Instead, I’m greeted by an angry Mordelia.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Baz! You are </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>allowed in here!” She guards a pile of blankets with folded arms.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What have you done with Simon?” I grumble.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I hold back a laugh as Simon pops his head out beneath the blankets. I need to maintain my anger for Mordelia’s sake. If she knew I found this even slightly funny, she’d hijack Simon more often.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How did she wake you up for this?” I ask.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Never had the chance to sleep,” Simon shrugs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I think we’ve answered enough of your questions,” Mordelia says, turning to Simon. She points down, and he immediately sinks back into the fort.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m showering, and then you’re cleaning this up,” I say, turning away from the door.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you hear something, Simon?” I hear Mordelia ask.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope!” Comes a voice muffled by blankets.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I roll my eyes, but a smile creeps its way onto my lips. I love that the two of them get on so well. I take a long shower, trying to warm my bones from the chilly December air, and then head downstairs for some tea. Might as well indulge them a little longer.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In actuality, I end up indulging them for a few hours. I take my book to the study and get so warm and content by the fire that I have no intention of moving. If Simon needed me, he would come find me. He knows I end up here, reading by the fire, at least once a day. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>We’re three days into our stay at the manor, and Simon and I have gotten into a nice routine. It always involves me reading for a bit while he goes and plays with my siblings or watches a movie. It’s nice, almost domestic.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, I snap out of my reading trance as Mordelia marches into the study.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Basilton. You’ve been summoned to your quarters. The builders have finished the renovations,” she says, then promptly walks away.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>How much have they </span>
  <em>
    <span>done?</span>
  </em>
  <span> I don’t have much time to think, because I realize I’m meant to be following her. As Mordelia opens the door to my room, I can’t help but gasp. They’ve basically turned my entire room into a blanket fort. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The blankets are strewn together so that it almost looks like one big quilt. Upon closer inspection, I realize the fort is a quilted mess of sheets, blankets, and shower curtains. I’m sure Daphne will be happy about that. From here I can see that they’ve strung Christmas lights through the whole thing, which sort of gives it a nice atmosphere. The pillows they’ve added to cushion the floor and serve as seating make it feel cosy. Crowley, I can’t believe I’m saying all this about a blanket fort.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Simon emerges from the entrance, and I have no idea how he fit in there with his wings. “Welcome to Fluffytown!” He exclaims, looking proud of himself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This is amazing,” I say, a hint of sarcasm in my voice.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up, Baz. I know you love it,” Mordelia rolls her eyes. She’s gotten quite good at doing that since we last visited. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I give you the tour?” Simon waves his arm to the entrance ceremoniously.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I follow behind him reluctantly, both of us crawling on our hands and knees. I have to be careful not to trip over Simon’s tail, but it seems like they’ve made the sides extra wide and tall for him. It’s sweet, really. The fort is mostly one long tunnel, but occasionally another tunnel intersects it. Simon keeps saying ridiculous things like </span>
  <em>
    <span>down that hall is the teddy bear room, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>over there is the Turkish district.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Over here,” Simon points to a small alcove to our left, “is the Belgian chocolate tasting room.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not engaging in this make believe, Simon,” I mumble.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He turns around to face me, incredulous. “It’s not make believe, Baz. It’s literally the Belgian chocolate room.” Apparently my face still shows my disbelief, because he drags me in.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Somehow, it really is a Belgian chocolate room. They’ve taken our stash from the kitchen and put it on the makeshift table.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Care to try our dark chocolate with nuts?” Simon wriggles his eyebrows at me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I settle on the cushions next to him, resting my head on his shoulder. “Fine,” I say. “You win. I believe in the magic of the blanket fort.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I knew you would!” Simon smiles. “You’re a romantic at heart, Basilton.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I roll my eyes at him, but press a kiss to his cheek. “What chocolate were you trying to woo me with earlier?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh nevermind that,” Simon says. “We’re saving the rest for Mordelia.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The rest?” I raise my eyebrows.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Simon’s cheeks flush. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He ate a lot,” a voice in the doorway answers.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>We both jump. Mordelia snuck up on us like the little spy she is. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her eyes look from me to Simon, then back to me. “You two are gross. I’m going to the teddy bear room.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s a great kid,” Simon says, his voice low.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Only for you. She’s fascinated by you.” I’m surprised at how soft my voice has gotten.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Simon nods. “I’m quite special.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mm.” I kiss the triangle of moles on his neck.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Simon smiles, bending down to kiss me. I hate to admit it, but this whole thing is perfect. The blankets make this place really comfortable, and I’m sitting next to my favorite heater. I smile into the kiss, which just makes Simon lean in deeper. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I love this pillow fort thing, but where are we going to sleep tonight?” I ask when we pull apart.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, there’s a tunnel that leads to the bed,” Simon says absentmindedly, his hands running through my hair. “Also, it’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>blanket</span>
  </em>
  <span> fort, dear.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is Mordelia sleeping in here tonight?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Simon laughs, moving to see me better. “Oh, yeah. She built herself a little room and is planning on sleeping on cushions.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Little devil,” I mutter. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I heard that!” Mordelia shouts from the teddy bear room.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We didn’t have the budget for sound-proofing the place,” Simon says sheepishly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I scoff. “She just proved my point.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I think what I have to show you will make you forget about Mordelia,” he smiles. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I follow him further into the maze of blankets. We pass the entrance to the bed (hallelujah!) and a library, Simon narrating all the way.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Here we are!” Simon announces, “The music wing!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>My record player is set carefully atop a table, tiny fairy lights wrapped around it. This room has more cushions than any of the others so far. It feels like laying on a cloud. I settle in as Simon puts on music.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A wave of calm washes over me, and I close my eyes to soak it in.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It's that time of year</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>When the world falls in love</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Every song you hear seems to say</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Merry Christmas</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I love “The Christmas Waltz,” which is a secret I keep locked deep in my heart. I realize that I may have mentioned it to Simon once, against my better judgement.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Who’s singing this?” I ask as Simon lays down next to me. He flops down on his stomach, propping himself up with his arms.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“She &amp; Him,” he explains. “It’s one of Mordelia’s records.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” I laugh. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Apparently already tired of holding himself up, Simon moves over to rest his head on my chest, wrapping his arms around me. Even his tail curls around my ankle. I sigh, content.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>We stay like that for what feels like forever, just listening. I’m surprised at how much I enjoy this version. I’m warm and happy, and my heart is full of love. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m happy you came this year,” I breathe.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Me too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Does he know you can move it like that?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dev and Niall drag Baz to a bar in an attempt to get him out of his post-breakup slump. Maybe he can be aided by the wild dancer tearing it up on the floor....</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Day 26: Break</p><p>To be completely honest, I was inspired by my own really-bad-but-super-enthusiastic dance moves for this. Videos of myself dancing were used as references (lol). I was listening to “Does He Know?” by One Direction and thought, no one could ever be entranced by my dance moves. Then I thought, what if someone was?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Come on Baz, don’t you want to dance?” Dev screams at me over the noise of the crowd.</p><p> </p><p>I shoo him away wordlessly and take another sip of my drink. I watch as he and Niall throw themselves into the crowd, getting swallowed up by the sea of dancers. They’re dancing to some pop song I don’t recognize, and I’m wondering, not for the first time, how they managed to drag me here.</p><p> </p><p><em> Come out with us </em> , they said. <em> It’ll be great fun, </em> they said.</p><p> </p><p>Apparently I’ve been spending too much time in the flat since Snow and I broke up. Excuse me if I want to lay on the floor, listen to The Smiths, and not move for an hour. Instead I’m here, drinking a shitty mixed drink Niall ordered for me and listening to some shitty pop music. I’ve half a mind to walk home.</p><p> </p><p>That’s when I see it.</p><p> </p><p>A flash of golden hair, oscillating wildly on the dance floor. The mob spreads out, and suddenly the wild dancer is in the center. I can just about see them from where I’m leaning against the bar. They’re doing this weird motion with their arms where they criss cross them in and out, making an x to the beat, and their legs have a mind of their own. Half jumping, half shuffling, it seems they’ll go wherever the beat takes them. </p><p> </p><p>I’m surprisingly envious of this person. I wish I had their ease, their comfort in their own skin. They look ridiculous, sure, but they also look like they’re having fun. Somewhere deep down in my cold heart, I love having fun.</p><p> </p><p>As the song ends, the crowd starts cheering, and the mystery dancer turns my way. That’s when I get a good glimpse of them.</p><p> </p><p>Golden curls, moles I can spot from here, a ragged old t-shirt and jeans. Simon fucking Snow.</p><p> </p><p>I need to get out of this bar.</p><p> </p><p>I’m trying to get the bartender’s attention to pay our tab when Dev and Niall come barreling into me.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you see that, mate? He’s absolutely mental out there!” Dev exclaims, patting me on the back.</p><p> </p><p>“We need to get out of here,” I growl, shoving some bills at the bartender and starting for the door.</p><p> </p><p>Niall puts himself between me and the door. “Baz, there’s so many people here, he isn’t going to see you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Besides,” Dev chimes in, “he’s got to be embarrassed.”</p><p> </p><p>“It was funny, but it was also kind of weird,” Niall agrees.</p><p> </p><p>I’m not quite sure Snow would have the sense to be embarrassed. I’d be surprised if he ever thought anything through. He certainly didn’t think things through when we were dating. Even still, I wasn’t that repulsed by his dancing. Honestly, it seemed almost fun. </p><p> </p><p>“I bet he’d be fun to dance with,” I say, my voice small.</p><p> </p><p>Dev and Niall share a knowing look. I’m happy they’ve finally gotten together, but seeing a happy couple right now makes me want to pull my teeth out one by one. </p><p> </p><p>“You’ve got to get over him! That’s why we came out here tonight. Just try,” Dev pleads.</p><p> </p><p>I scowl. “Coming here was the perfect thing to do, wasn’t it?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’ll be fine,” Niall assures me.</p><p> </p><p>The speakers blare as a new song starts, and Niall’s eyes light up. </p><p> </p><p>“Fergalicious! Babe, it’s your song!” Dev shouts, turning to Niall. The two of them are practically jumping up and down as they throw themselves back into the crowd, leaving me behind without a second thought. </p><p> </p><p>I push through the door, cold air hitting my face. I lean against the wall of the bar, grateful for some quiet. My stomach churns in a mix of excitement and anxiety. I hadn’t expected seeing Snow to feel so strange. </p><p> </p><p>I’m only alone for a few moments, as the door swings open with a clatter, and I hear someone make a surprised noise. Turning my head far too quickly, I look over to find Snow, red-faced, still clutching the door. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, don’t let all the heat outside,” I grumble, trying to keep my voice even. He can’t know that seeing him dance like a buffoon has left me melted inside.</p><p> </p><p>Snow lets the door swing shut, but he doesn’t move. “Baz,” is all he can manage to say.</p><p> </p><p>“You still remember me, I see.” I wish I still had my drink. I could have taken a sarcastic sip right then. It would have been a nice moment.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you see me?” His voice is gravely, probably from screaming over the crowd.</p><p> </p><p>I let out a deliberately controlled chuckle. “Snow, I think they saw you on Mars.”</p><p> </p><p>His eyes widen, and I can’t help but feel bad for him. He’s not a great dancer, but he is fun to watch. Fun to be around. My stomach ties itself into a knot.</p><p> </p><p>I allow myself to get a better look at him, just for a moment. His cheeks are flushed from the dancing, and his mouth hangs open softly. It’s cold enough that I can see the air leaving his lips. Still a fucking mouth breather.</p><p> </p><p>“To what do I owe the pleasure?” I ask coolly. I really need him to leave before I start romanticizing his moles. </p><p> </p><p>Snow shrugs. “It was just hot in there.”</p><p> </p><p>I raise my eyebrow in response.</p><p> </p><p>He moves to lean against the wall next to me and closes his eyes. “Do you think I made a fool of myself?” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, absolutely,” I smile. “It was magnificent.”</p><p> </p><p>He groans, turning to face the brick wall completely. He looks sad, and I fight the urge to put my arms around him. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re Simon Snow. Making a fool out of yourself is expected at this point,” I say as gently as I can manage.</p><p> </p><p>“Sod off.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s fun to watch, really. I think you’d be fun to dance with,” I remark, surprising myself. It’s so hard to hold back from him. </p><p> </p><p>We broke up because we “wanted different things,” but really, all I’ve ever wanted is him. I think he just got spooked by the level of commitment we were approaching. Honestly, I think I was a little frightened too. At any rate, it’s too late to fix it.</p><p> </p><p>“Why are you being so nice to me?” Snow asks, still facing the brick.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean? I’m always nice,” I say simply.</p><p> </p><p>Snow rolls himself around so his back is flush against the wall. He brings a hand to the back of his neck, scratching at his hair for a moment before throwing both hands in the air.</p><p> </p><p>“I mean because of how everything ended.” Snow sounds dangerously close to going off. A nice call back to ‘how everything ended,’ as he put it.</p><p> </p><p>I try to keep my face impassive. “You’ve been known to blow up. It wasn’t a surprise.”</p><p> </p><p>I think back to that last argument. He had screamed at me about what television show we were watching, of all things. It had started as an argument about television, but it was masking something deeper. Before long, all his qualms were out in the open.</p><p> </p><p> It was partially my fault too, I know. I knew it even then as I goaded him at every turn. Always a snide comeback to make, always an inch farther to push him.</p><p> </p><p>Until I pushed too far. Initially, I was sure I’d have no regrets about that. I was quite proud of the insults I had slung. Proud that I’d thought of them in the moment. After he left, though, and I was left completely and utterly alone, the guilt seeped in.</p><p> </p><p>“To be fair, I wasn’t great to you either,” I say, my voice nearly a whisper.</p><p> </p><p>Snow sighs. “I’m sorry about everything. Including what you had to see tonight.”</p><p> </p><p>There are the words I’ve been missing. I didn’t realize until now, but I had been waiting for him to apologise. He never came back around, not even to collect the sweatshirts I’d stolen from him. Still, I had been waiting for him to come back to me.</p><p> </p><p>“I appreciate that.” I clear my throat and stand up straight, pushing off the wall. “I’ve got to go find Dev and Niall. I’m their ride.” </p><p> </p><p>“Are they finally together?” Snow asks, something in his eyes that I can’t put my finger on.</p><p> </p><p>I nod. “Yes, finally.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wicked.” </p><p> </p><p>I reach for the door handle but stop when I feel a hand on my arm.</p><p> </p><p>Snow looks at me wildly. “Do you wanna dance with me?”</p><p> </p><p>I smirk, taking him in. “I thought you’d never ask.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Nor'easter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Baz and Simon go to America to visit Penny and Shep, but they’re met with a lot of snow.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Day 27: Snowstorm </p><p>So. I meant to make this some cute fluff based on me shoveling snow and immediately jumping back into bed. However, what I actually ended up writing was some hurt/comfort (I was listening to sad music...). This talks a bit about the difficulties of the aftermath of CO/WS, especially Simon's issues. It’s not too heavy, though! I like to think it’s hopeful. This was fueled by Taylor Swift’s song “Evermore,” which is a great track about healing, even when it hurts. I feel like the vibe of the fic is very much reflected in that song, so if you want the vibe, give it a listen!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>We’re in New York when it happens. Simon rushes to the windows of the Airbnb, his eyes wide with wonder. It’s a look I don’t see on him much anymore.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The porch light is like a spotlight on the quickly falling snow. It seems to be falling in a little vortex, a little controlled chaos for our Monday evening. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon turns to me, his face suddenly twisted with concern. “Do you think Penelope and Shep will make it out here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I fight the urge to grumble about the snow and try to look comforting. “I’m sure they will.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His shoulders relax, but his tail keeps swishing back and forth to a phantom beat. Over the last few months, I’ve learned that his tail is his tell. Simon’s true feelings are always on display there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The problem is, I know fuck-all about snowstorms like this. I’d heard rumblings about Nor’easters from across the pond, but I don’t know how much it’ll impact the roads. It never snows like this back home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bunce and Shepard were on a sort of magickal road trip across America (Shepard wanted to show her all his favorite spots), and we had decided to meet up in New York when they made it to the East Coast. I wasn’t about to visit them in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Midwest</span>
  </em>
  <span> of all places. The plan had been for us to arrive the night before them, to get the place set up and deal with our jet lag. Now I’m not sure if they’ll even make it here, with the road to the cabin having virtually disappeared under a blanket of snow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I knew it wasn’t a good idea to get a </span>
  <em>
    <span>cabin</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the middle of fucking nowhere. There’s barely any magic out here either. Really, I did it for Simon - I’d do </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> for Simon, even go back to that Carhenge bullshit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Right now, he looks so worried that I feel compelled to go out and slay whatever beast has him this upset. In the old days, there might have actually been a beast to slay (it might even have been me). Only now, the monsters lie within. I know a lot about that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I slip an arm around his waist, resting my head on his shoulder. I wouldn’t say we’re back to “normal” (does such a thing exist?), but at least we’re both sure of one thing: we care a lot about each other. Some days, being close to Simon is the only thing keeping me grounded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The snow’s really nice,” he says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m happy we can see it together.” I press a kiss to one of the moles on his neck, and he laughs, if only for a moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I really wanted to see Penny.” Simon’s eyes get trapped in one of his trademark thousand yard stares. When he’s like this, it’s best to just gently guide him along.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’ll be here,” I say. “Besides, we can enjoy the snow together.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiles tightly at me. I know he’s more excited than he’s able to let on. Once he heard there was snow in the forecast, all Simon could talk about was drinking hot chocolate together and watching the snow. I don’t think he’d realized how solemn it’d make him. There’s something humbling about snow, and that seems to have taken a lot out of Simon, especially after our long trip here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Giving him one last squeeze, I leave Simon by the window and set about making the fire and hot chocolate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We spend the night switching between the fire and the window, sipping hot chocolate and chatting occasionally. For the most part, we just listen quietly to the music I have softly playing. My heart is still set on fire by him, but I’ve learned to let this be enough. Silent nights, holding hands. Healing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When we’re at the window, I can’t help but be transfixed by the snow. I love how the porch light ricochets off of it, illuminating the whole front yard. The deer padding its way through the snow just adds to the softness of the whole scene. Thank magic I don’t have to go out there and ruin it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the time before I had an in with the local butcher shop, I might have had to follow that deer into the woods and stain the snow with blood. Today, though, I can just admire it as it crosses through the yard before us. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A lot has changed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After Merlin knows how long, we crawl into our bed. This is something new, too. It’s tentative most nights, but I know we both cherish having each other so close. I reach for his hands and cover them in mine. I can feel how bone-chillingly cold my hands are, but I see him smile in the dark.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for tonight,” Simon whispers, his eyes closed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I scoff playfully. “I didn’t do anything special.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was special to me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I press a kiss to his knuckles, settling in beside him. Sleet is hitting our window, softly but persistently. It’s almost peaceful. I know he’s asleep when I see his mouth fall open, a small string of drool already starting its descent. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This is special to me, too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next morning, I hear Simon get up at an ungodly hour and stomp around the house. I almost find it in me to say it’s endearing...but then I realize how tired I am. I decide to give him a few minutes alone, out of kindness (certainly not out of laziness).</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When I finally make my way into the kitchen, still in my pyjamas, I hear Simon on the phone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyes light up when he sees me enter the room. I smile. He already seems better than yesterday.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Baz is here, I’ll let you talk to him,” Simon says, passing me the phone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Morning, Bunce,” I say, because there’s only one person besides me he’d be calling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Listen, Basil. I didn’t want to say this to Simon, but the roads are a mess. We’re going as fast as we can, but it’ll be awhile until we make it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just be safe, please.” I hate the softness that finds its way into my voice. As much as I pretend to be exasperated by her, I really like Bunce.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“NICKS AND SLICK, SHEPARD!” She yells suddenly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Penelope?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bunce lets out a sigh on the other end of the line. “I’m fine. Shepard is a bad driver.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am not!” he calls.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Baz, can you and Simon just shovel the driveway so it’s ready when we come? The website said there are snow shovels in the garage.” She’s using her business voice with me now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shovel?</span>
  </em>
  <span> What do I look like, a Normal?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Basil.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I groan. “All right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How’s Simon?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I look at him as he puts water on for tea, all while still staring out the window at the snow. “Some days are better than others. But he’s okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good.” Bunce sounds relieved. “Thank you for taking such good care of our guy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Our guy</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That hits me right in the gut.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course. Drive safe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I put the phone down on the counter, running my hands through my hair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We need to shovel the driveway,” I tell Simon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To my surprise, he seems delighted. I think he secretly wanted to go out and play in the snow all along.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After gathering the shovels and putting on warmer clothes, we head outside. I stick the shovel in the snow, pushing it forward slightly, then throw the snow over my shoulder into what I hope is grass and not more driveway. Crowley, this is harder than it looks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s probably a good thirty centimeters of snow out here, and it’s heavy. I’d imagine this is what picking up a numpty feels like. For all my vampire strength, this is still hard work.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon doesn’t seem to notice my struggling. He’s happily shoveling away, whistling some shitty pop song as he goes. Manual labor seems to do the trick for him. Even his tail is bouncing happily behind him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I try </span>
  <b>A place for everything, and everything in its place</b>
  <span>, but the snow doesn’t move. Either it’s already in its place, or there’s not enough magic out here to make it work. I can’t even think of a more appropriate American saying to try, so I just keep going down the long driveway, barely making any progress.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My strength keeps me going for longer than Simon; he starts to get tired about halfway through. Still, my hands ache from lifting the weight of the snow, and I’m unbelievably cold.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you cold over there, love?” Simon calls, as if reading my mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine!” I try to keep my voice sincere.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He comes over, taking off his gloves and pressing his palms to my cheeks. “You’re not fine. Go inside, I’ll finish up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I’ve half a mind to argue with him, but my cheeks are practically frozen where he touched them. Losing his warmth was worse than having none in the first place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I go inside, curling up by the fire for a few minutes before getting up to watch him at the window. When I see him, I burst out laughing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s figured out that his wings can move the snow pretty far, so he’s just flapping them forward and back like a dragon preparing for takeoff. The snow blows down the driveway, blizzard-like, making it much easier to shovel the few centimeters that remain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he comes inside, Simon seems pretty pleased with himself, but he also looks exhausted. Now that I think about it, my back is aching, and my hands are still too numb to have full mobility.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bed,” Simon mumbles. It’s not a question, it’s a command.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I follow him into the bedroom, flopping under the covers. I’m glad we didn’t bother to make the bed this morning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re still so cold,” Simon says, pulling me into his chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>An embarrassing noise sneaks out of me. It’s a cross between a sigh and a giggle of delight. Simon just laughs softly, pressing a kiss to my forehead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I feel so lucky to have times like these, when Simon feels good enough to actually be affectionate. I’d wait my entire immortal life for him if it meant I could just have five minutes of this with him at the end.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was pretty amazing what you did out there,” I whisper.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It felt good to stretch them out, actually,” he explains. His wings are a touchy subject, but today he seems glad to have them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a time that I was sure this pain would never end. Times when I was sure Simon would ice me out, leave me in the cold. Right now, he’s doing his best to keep me warm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You looked majestic.” It’s true. Every day I look at him and realize he’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His tail curls around my ankle. “Do you still like me like this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I pull back from his embrace so I can look right into his eyes. For once, the blue is muted, almost like a cloud passing over a blue sky. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I like you however you come. I like you like this,” I rest a hand on his wing, “I like you like this,” I wiggle my foot in his grip, and his tail holds on tighter. “I like you like </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” I kiss his chin softly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon smiles, but his eyes are welling up with tears. “I like it when you don’t take a shower in the morning, and your hair is wild.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh shut up, you numpty.” I prepare to swat at his arm in protest, but he catches me in a kiss. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s soft and questioning, so I lean into it just a bit, telling him it’s okay. I feel him smile, pulling me closer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Like I said, I’d wait an eternity just for one minute of this. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We break apart as Simon’s phone buzzes, and he rolls over to check it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Penny and Shep are half an hour away.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This peace won’t last long, then,” I grumble.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simon smiles, and this time it’s one of his old smiles. One that lights up his face, filling me with warmth even from afar.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then let’s enjoy it,” he says softly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As we settle in, my back finally sinks comfortably into the mattress, and I realize my hands are soft and warm again. I let Simon hold me close, relishing in his warmth and his love. We might not get another moment like this for a while, I realize. I feel the anxiety seep into my veins, threatening to light me on fire.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whatever you’re thinking about, don’t.” Simon kisses the top of my head, reaching an arm up to run his fingers through my messy locks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even as unsure as our future is, I still feel comforted in the knowledge that we’ll be together. Some days are better than others, but we will have more moments like this. We’ll have more snowy days, more soft kisses.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And I can’t be sure, but I have a feeling so peculiar that this pain won’t be for evermore.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Last line courtesy of Miss Taylor Swift. I'm telling you, "Evermore" is a lovely song.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Keep Shining On</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Shepard drags the gang out to look at Christmas lights during their visit to California</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Day 28: Party</p><p>This is my Christmas tradition with my family, so of course I wanted to get them involved! I don't know if people do Christmas lights like this in the UK, which is why I plopped them in California. I also don't know if they do this in California, but people do this in my area of the US, so we're going with it!</p><p>The title comes from "Christmas Lights" by Coldplay, one of my favorite Christmas songs.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>If we drive around for one more minute, I think I might be sick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remind me why we’re driving in circles right now when I could be in my pyjamas,” I grumble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve almost found the house, I promise!” Shepard calls from the front seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This better be worth it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Simon takes my hand and scoots to the middle of the backseat. “Besides, it’s Christmas Eve Eve </span>
  <em>
    <span>Eve</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Baz. You have to get in the spirit!” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I just roll my eyes, pressing my face to the cool window. I have to admit, the houses are really pretty. It feels like every house on this street is lit up brightly with gaudy Christmas lights. There are blow-up snowmen and Father Christmases on roofs. It’s almost comforting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m not keen on being back in America, especially after what happened last time, but we’re out here to visit Agatha, and look at Christmas lights, apparently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shepard dragged us out of the hotel earlier tonight, citing a family Christmas tradition that he just </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> to share with us. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can have hot chocolate and look at pretty lights!” He exclaimed. Bunce and I rolled our eyes. “It’ll be the perfect party. Plus, I think I heard of a really cool spot we can go to, if you’re lucky!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow, that got Simon really excited, so now we’ve all been brought along on this wild goose chase. Simon is too easily excited by Shepard’s dumb ideas. They’re like two peas in a pod, if the two peas liked to go on ridiculous adventures.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Agatha got out of this because she had some party to go to with her friends. I think I’d rather be at a Normal holiday party than in this stuffy old rental car while my so-called friends sing Christmas carols.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m serious. They’ve started singing along to that infernal song from </span>
  <em>
    <span>A Charlie Brown Christmas</span>
  </em>
  <span>, where everything is super high pitched and off key. I don’t think they realise how painful this is to my vampire ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh come on, Basil. Have some Christmas spirit.” Bunce turns in the seat to face me, raising an eyebrow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, thank you.” Honestly, I miss my family. I miss Christmas with my siblings and even my father. I wish Simon and I could spend a </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> Christmas at Pitch Manor. Instead we’re in fucking California.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re here!” Shepard booms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We join a line of cars in front of a house with incredible flashing lights. As Shepard hastily tunes the radio, I realize the lights are timed to the music. In the center of the lawn, there’s a row of tiny white Christmas trees, all changing colors. Behind them are arches, lights following their curves and jumping from one to the next. A massive tree made solely out of strings of lights sits next to them, and across the yard to the left is another tree, this one like a large television monitor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shep! This is insane!” Simon yells, practically climbing over me to reach the window. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s one of these in my hometown, and I just couldn’t stand to miss it this year.” Shepard smiles sheepishly at us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Simon settles into my lap, insistent on getting the best view from the window. I have to admit, it is kind of amazing. “The Grinch” is playing, and the little trees change color in time to the music. The monitor-like tree is programmed to show pictures in its lights, so we get to see the Grinch himself, dancing to the music. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I lean back to get a better look at Simon. He’s sitting there, with his mouth wide open in wonder. He looks so ridiculous that I want to kiss him just to make it stop. Smiling, I wrap my arms around him, pulling him closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This was a really cool find,” I hear Bunce say softly. Shepard reaches across the car and tentatively places his hand over hers. (I knew there was something going on there.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nuzzle into Simon’s side, and he barely notices, entranced by the lights. I sigh as the song changes and buckle up for more Christmas cheer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We’re all laughing as a silly song comes on, one about the commercial craziness of Christmas (the radio tells us it’s “The Christmas Can-Can”). Singing trees have made their appearance on the roof (Merlin, there are a lot of tree decorations on this property), and they complain about hearing the same songs over and over, and how the season starts earlier and earlier every year. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tell me about it</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Simon throws his head back laughing, Shepard mirroring him. I’m sure Bunce is giving the same fond look to Shepard that I have turned on Simon. This is surprisingly lovely. I miss my family, but looking around the car at my friends - my </span>
  <em>
    <span>family</span>
  </em>
  <span> - I feel right at home. Simon would probably say that my mean little vampire heart grew three sizes, like the Grinch himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shepard was right. This </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> the perfect party.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. When We're Together</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Shepard hosts the first annual white elephant party for the group. Simon's nervous about his present, but everyone else bought gag gifts, right? Right??</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Day 29: Secret Santa/Gift Giving</p>
<p>Once again, here I am giving them one of my favorite traditions! If you don't know what a white elephant party is, Shepard will explain it to you soon enough.</p>
<p>This is my last entry for the countdown this year, and it was so fun to participate! This was the perfect way to get back into fic writing.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I think it’s time!” Shepard yells from the kitchen.</p>
<p>We’ve all assembled at the apartment Penny and I share for a little holiday party. Agatha flew in last week to visit her parents, which means we get to steal her away for a bit. Shepard snuck back here with us and pretty much hasn’t left this apartment since. Still, it feels good to have the band back together.</p>
<p>“Did you guys hear me?” he yells again. “It’s white elephant time!”</p>
<p>I can hear Baz groan from his spot on the couch, but I’m actually a little excited for this. I’m still not quite sure what this game is, but Shepard says it’s all the rage in the states. Even Agatha said she’d been to a few white elephant parties in California.</p>
<p>We gather around the presents we all brought. Shepard instructed us to bring one gift that any of us could enjoy. Based on a quick Google search, it sounds like people usually bring gag gifts to this sort of thing. I hope mine gives someone a good laugh.</p>
<p>When I take a seat next to Baz on the couch, Shepard is passing around a hat and making everyone take a slip of paper out of it. The paper has a number on it, but I’ve no idea what it’s for.</p>
<p>“All right everyone, settle down!” Shepard says.</p>
<p>Agatha rolls her eyes from where she’s sitting on the floor, Lucy in her lap. “Shepard, we are settled down.”</p>
<p>He ignores her. “Welcome to the first annual Scooby-Doo Crew white elephant!”</p>
<p>I clap, because it seems like he expects us to. Baz knees me in the side.</p>
<p>“Scooby-Doo Crew?” Penelope asks from her perch on the arm of the loveseat.</p>
<p>“We needed a squad name. And we go around solving mysteries, so…” Shepard trails off. “It doesn’t matter! Anyway, here are the rules of the game.”</p>
<p>He explains that we all got a number, which is the order in which we’ll choose a gift from under the tree. Then, we unwrap the gift and show it off. The next person can either steal from anyone who’s already opened, or open a new one. It sounds fun enough to me, but I can see the beginnings of a sneer working on Baz’s face.</p>
<p>I lean over, putting my head on his shoulder. “Relax, love. It’ll be fun,” I whisper. He smiles, squeezing my hand in response.</p>
<p>“Ugh, you two are disgusting. Can we get started, please?” Agatha grumbles.</p>
<p>Shepard’s eyes light up. “Who has number one?”</p>
<p>Agatha raises her hand.</p>
<p>“Perfect! Go ahead,” he says, clapping his hands.</p>
<p>Agatha goes for a small bag. Inside is a beautiful blue cashmere scarf. I swallow hard, my pulse quickening immediately. Were we meant to buy serious gifts?</p>
<p>“Oh, wow. This is lovely!” She exclaims. Lucy is already nuzzling her face against the soft fabric.</p>
<p>We don’t need to announce who bought that one for me to know it was Baz. I try to calm down, rationalizing that Baz would totally be the one out of all of us to buy a serious present.</p>
<p>“I’m number two!” Shepard jumps from his seat and approaches the tree. He reaches for a small wrapped box, tearing it open excitedly.</p>
<p>“Save the sea turtles! Heck yeah,” he laughs. He holds up a reusable silicone straw and bamboo silverware set for us to see.</p>
<p><em>Another serious present</em>, I think. I can already feel my face flushing. If I could still go off, there’s a chance I’d be on my way to doing so.</p>
<p>Baz is next, and he picks something that looks oddly like a book. <em>Figures</em>. It turns out that it is a book, just not the kind Baz would want to read.</p>
<p>“<em>Weird U.S.</em>,” Baz reads, “your travel guide to America’s local legends and best kept secrets.”</p>
<p>All of us immediately turn to Shepard, who holds up his hands in defeat.</p>
<p>“As if you could ever get me to go back to that blasted place,” Baz grumbles.</p>
<p>“I’m number four!” I say, trying to lighten the mood. “Baz, I’m stealing that from you.”</p>
<p>He hands it over immediately. “Be my guest.”</p>
<p>I smile, opening the book to page through it. It’s actually kind of interesting. I know barely anything about the World of Mages as it is, so I think I might actually enjoy learning about magickal America. When I look up from the book, I see Shepard grinning at me, giving me a thumbs up.</p>
<p>“What happens now?” Baz asks.</p>
<p>“You get to open another gift, or steal,” Shepard explains.</p>
<p>Baz heads back under the Christmas tree and chooses a small bag. He holds up two notebooks, each different shades of green. Not many people can recognize an excited Baz, but I can tell that he’s suppressing a grin right now.</p>
<p>“These are gorgeous,” Baz breathes. I can’t help but laugh at how excited he is about some notebooks. It’s adorable.</p>
<p>“That just leaves me.” Penelope grabs the last gift under the tree.</p>
<p>I realize, horrified, that it’s my present. I’d completely forgotten about it in the midst of the stealing and opening of other gifts. My stomach churns as I go over each gift that’s been opened. They’re all serious, useful gifts. I would have loved receiving any of them (except maybe the notebooks). The more I think about it, the more I realize that my gift is not something anyone would like to have.</p>
<p>“Penny, are you sure you don’t want to steal something?” I ask, trying not to be too obvious.</p>
<p>“I’m intrigued by this one,” she says simply, already tearing through the wrapping.</p>
<p>I put my face in my hands. I refuse to watch this.</p>
<p>“What have you got there, Bunce?” I hear Baz ask. Apparently she’s been too appalled to hold it up to show everyone.</p>
<p>Then I hear Shepard let out a hysterical laugh. “A toilet night light! It changes colors, Pen!”</p>
<p>I look up at that, my face and palms hot with anxiety. All four heads are turned to me. “How did you guys know?” I say defensively.</p>
<p>“Simon, you’re as red as a tomato,” Penny laughs.</p>
<p>“You look about ready to go off, love,” Baz says, giving me a soft look.</p>
<p>“I didn’t realize that this was a <em>serious</em> gift exchange! I thought we were doing joke gifts! Like for fun. Not that this present isn’t fun, I really like this book, Shepard, I just mean it’s not <em>fun</em> in the way that my gift is <em>fun </em>-”</p>
<p>“Simon, it’s okay,” Penelope says. “If you had gotten my notebooks, you would have hated them.”</p>
<p>Before I can argue, Baz chimes in. “You’d have been too hot to wear my scarf.”</p>
<p>“And I don’t think you even use silverware,” Agatha laughs.</p>
<p>“Speaking of silverware,” Shepard says, “I’ll trade you, Pen. I think that night light looks <em>rad</em>.”</p>
<p>Penelope doesn’t argue.</p>
<p>“I have to admit, that was almost fun,” Baz says, smirking.</p>
<p>Shepard is looking awfully proud of himself. “This is why it’s the first <em>annual</em> white elephant party. Next year is gag gifts only.”</p>
<p>The oven dings and we all startle.</p>
<p>“That’s the scones! I’ll go get them out of the oven,” Agatha says, scooping Lucy up in her arms.</p>
<p>Shepard turns to Penelope and takes her hand. “Please let me put this night light on your toilet. This is basically my home now, and I want to enjoy my present.”</p>
<p>Penny makes a big show of rolling her eyes, but I can tell she’s hiding some softness from him. “Fine, let’s go.”</p>
<p>As they go to put my shitty gift to use, I hear Baz chuckle.</p>
<p>“You’d think they all left so that we could be alone,” he laughs.</p>
<p>“I think they’re sick of us,” I say, pulling myself onto his lap.</p>
<p>Baz pulls me close, sighing into the embrace. “Good riddance, I say.”</p>
<p>I love having Baz this close.</p>
<p>“Are you happy to have everyone here?” Baz asks.</p>
<p>I think back to our first Christmas together, one where we kissed, sure, but also the one I ripped away all the magic from his home. Not a great first Christmas.</p>
<p>This time of year has never been easy for us, but right now, it almost feels like I have a family. A family that will affix your shitty gag gift to their toilet, and one that will go out of their way to make you sour cherry scones. We’ve come a long way since that first Christmas.</p>
<p>I grin. “So happy. It’s the most perfect gift.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you're wondering if the toilet night light is real, <a href="https://www.walmart.com/ip/8-Colors-Human-Motion-Sensor-Automatic-Seats-LED-Light-Toilet-Bowl-Bathroom-Lamp/949940600?wmlspartner=wlpa&amp;selectedSellerId=2734&amp;&amp;adid=22222222227088111673&amp;wl0=&amp;wl1=g&amp;wl2=c&amp;wl3=203248251359&amp;wl4=pla-331602530118&amp;wl5=9007261&amp;wl6=&amp;wl7=&amp;wl8=&amp;wl9=pla&amp;wl10=113548204&amp;wl11=online&amp;wl12=949940600&amp;veh=sem&amp;gclid=CjwKCAiA8ov_BRAoEiwAOZogwaNMRCQpCHyAnF57gD5ILmL6NOK8fwW2k8IZ5U3mHm0eONVmZfAk_xoCSc0QAvD_BwE">it certainly is.</a></p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Find me on <a href="https://effing-numpties.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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